


Bridge of Ice

by OperaOtaku, xenakis



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Historical Fantasy, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:32:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaOtaku/pseuds/OperaOtaku, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenakis/pseuds/xenakis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurence is in search of Tharkay, gone missing in an expedition commisisoned by the Hudson Bay Company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yunitsa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunitsa/gifts).



> Written for Yunitsa, I hope this suites your tastes. You mentionned emotional reunions, letters and gentlemanly slash; there you have it !  
> Special thanks to Xen for her beta-reading.
> 
> WARNING : set right after "Crucible of Gold", so major spoilers if you're not up to date with Novik's books.
> 
> Enjoy the footnotes.

 

 

 

**Bridge of Ice**

 

 

"Oh Laurence, it is beyond anything wonderful!" Temeraire said, in delight."Of course we must go: I should like nothing better than that Maximus and Lily see China, and all our formation, too. And to think that Gong Su has arranged it all: I should never have imagined it."

"No," Laurence said, stifling the smart of renewed indignation. Temeraire peered at him a little anxiously. "I hope," he said tentatively, "that you do not mind we should not go back to England straightaway? But I do understand from Lily that everything there at the present is quite at a standstill: and Napoleon will surely have a long time sailing back. And I am sure that this Captain Blaise in charge of the _Potentate_ will see the very real importance of our going to China under these circumstances."

Of that, Laurence had less certainty. "Particularly as we have only the crown's prince invitation, and not the emperor's; and no certainty of success when we arrived," Laurence added soberly, "but I am persuaded we must make the attempt. If we should indeed find it possible to engage China in an alliance, that may be our only hope now of standing for long against Napoleon. As much as I would dread to make our way overland through the Bering strait, we might have to; with his ships and Fleurs-de-nuit, and now Inca dragons, Napoleon made it almost impossible to pass through the Magellan strait. The Tswana empire also renders the route around Africa impractible... although we might have another way by sea now," he said, placing his hand over his breast pocket, filled with letters brought by the _Potentate_ , "taking the Northwest passage, but I have no confidence in Blaise's diverting the _Potentate_ at our request: he is not Riley."

 

He stopped and said again, low, "He is not Riley," and swallowed regret once more: the loss not only of a friend, but of that still more priceless treasure, a man on whom he could rely.

 

"No," Temeraire said, and bent his head to nose gently at Laurence's back in comfort.

 

 

***

 

In his cabin aboard the _Potentate_ , Laurence was looking through the opened letters on his desk; correspondence from his family, his mother mostly, excited about his reinstatement, and Jane, giving him news of the state of war in Europe. He found the one he was looking for, and read it again.

 

_Dear Laurence,_

_I do not know when these lines will reach you... I am in England now, and have heard the news of your reinstatement within the corps. Though I do not share your feelings towards the crown, I know what this means to you, and I am glad for you. In a few days, I shall board the _Investigator_ [1] in direction of Halifax, where we will reprovision before heading North. As you might have heard, the tensions between The Hudson Bay and The Northwest Companies have broken into skirmishes between the traders of each allegiance [2], not counting on incidents with the natives. That is why The Hudson Bay company has required from the crown a contingent of dragons to protect their ship and men during their next expedition. The Hudson Bay Company wishes to be the first to find the Northwest passage to Asia. Since this would represent an alternative route for commerce, the crown consented to free a few dragons from duty. War is at a standstill in Europe, and the presence of the ferals is less welcome than it was. They argued that since they used to live in the mountains, they were more suitable for this kind of mission in a inhospitable habitat; I guess the same could be said for me. I have therefore been appointed as their "handler" for the expedition. Arkady's negotiations were quite fierce and more than once they suspected me of being more than a translator. Only when Perscitia intervened (acting as a special counselor on behalf of the ferals), having grasped quite quickly the notion of tax on trade, stocks and bonds, and future considerations, did they agree on a financial arrangement. The more they argued with Perscitia, the more they were inadvertently conceding; they concluded the deal in haste, before leaving their shirts on the table. Laurence, more than once I had to refrain myself from gutting Sir Joseph Banks [3], that old hypocrite, straight in his wheelchair. But in the end, both the financial compensation and the look on their faces, having to concede to a dragon's demands, were worth my trouble. _

_I hope you are well, dear friend, may we meet again soon,_

_Tenzig._

 

Laurence could only smile again, reading those lines. Tharkay's bile against the Establishment certainly came from terrible causes. Laurence understood more than ever how his mind worked, having himself been rejected by his own country and branded as a traitor, only to be reinstalled out of pure necessity. Despite all that, he still found that personality trait strangely endearing in Tharkay; reading him vent his frustration as well as gloat over the establishment's shortcomings inexplicably made him happy.

 

 

***

 

Captain Blaise had proven to be more cooperative than Laurence had thought. The North Pacific current and the Gulf stream would save them several days at sea from Belém to Halifax, where Blaise had agreed to reassess the situation and the feasibility of their expedition, once in possession of newly mapped Northern Islands of Canada. All men and dragons had been packed on board of the great transport ship. Iskierka's spikes and steam not allowing close contact with any of the other dragons, Kulingile, Temeraire and Shukri were sharing the same platform, while the rest of the flying squadron were tangled up together.

 

"Please, do NOT shake the ship," complained Iskierka, "I think I am going to be sick again."

"Of course you're going to be sick, and so will I if I eat yet another of those whales!" exploded Maximus before shifting his weight again, making the whole ship tangle.

 

Iskierka's head was dangling from her platform, her breath shallow, trying to keep whatever was in her stomach there. Every morning, Gong Su would prepare a mixture made out of those infamous hard cookies and after a few hours --hours during which she would call incessantly for Granby if he wasn't by her side patting her back-- her stomach would settle. By the end of the day, she would eat more than her share of whale stew. She had gone through the same routine every day since they left Belém. Since she didn't cough, the fear of the plague was quickly gone, but her state still preoccupied Granby immensely, especially since Dorset was at a loss about what was causing her condition.

 

"I wouldn't mind eating whale," offered Kulingile,

"That doesn't count, you wouldn't mind eating anything," replied Maximus.

"But... I'm just so hungry," whined Kulingile.

"GRAAAAANBY," painfully called Iskierka before her whole body jolted with a great spasm and the contents of her stomach went diving into the sea, "I'm here my love," he answered, caressing her neck with his good hand.

 

For such an uneventful journey, life on board of the _Potentate_ certainly was not dull. Between Iskierka's condition, Shukri's incredible solicitude towards Hammond --she had more than once suddenly "secured" him in her clutches fearing he might fall off the deck--, Kulingile's never ending search for food --and thus never ending growth, to Maximus utter outrage-- Temeraire's attempts to explain Chinese poetry to a group of clearly uninterested dragons, and a crew of bewildered sailors, Laurence had very little time to himself. Secretly, he was glad for the distraction and the lack of time to write letters and personal journal. As Halifax became bigger into view, so did his fears, deep and irrational, that he was not to see Tharkay alive again.

 

 

***

 

_Dear Laurence,_

_We have left Halifax at last. We finished the preparations for our expedition; fur coats and cloaks, pelts, firewood and coal, food supplies for the men, even some live cattle for the dragons, everything we could need is packed on board. I must admit those new tin canned goods are a definitive improvement compared to salted meat and cookies[4]. Laurence, my friend, it is a mystery to me how you became so tall, yet stayed alive, eating only those for so many years. Captain Buchan [5] now possesses the combined mapping of the Northern Islands done by Baffin, other British explorers, Russian sailors, Norse Whalers, even "voyageurs" and “coureurs des bois”, and our path seems clear. The _Invigilator_ is now sailing North towards the eastern shores of The New Found Land, hoping to have favorable currents and winds to push us between the coasts of Labrador and Greenland. Once in the Baffin sea, we will head West in search of a passage. The dragons will be able to provide a better chance at finding our way in the maze of islands. The additional Prize promised by the Royal Society if this mission is successful does not seem impossible right now. I wish you could sea those shores Laurence, or the Pacific Ocean, once we reach it. You are the man of the sea, not me. _

_I hope your travels are going well my friend,_

_Tenzig_

 

 

***

 

"I beg your pardon, sir?" was all that Laurence could mutter. "What do you mean, there are no new maps?" he asked indignantly.

"Well, the expedition that passed by a few weeks ago never came back!" the newly appointed Lieutenant Governor of Halifax answered simply. "Either they will pass the winter caught up in the ice, or we just have to consider their ship lost already. They would not be the first ones to go missing up there," finished Sir Georges Prévost [6].

Blaise, Laurence, as well as the other dragons’ captains present in Governor Prévost's office, could not find anything to reply to his somber assumptions. Laurence was livid, a cold sweat had started to pearl all over his body, and his mind had seemingly stopped working. Coming back to his senses, Laurence was the first to break the uneasy silence. "Sir, surely, you cannot suggest that they be considered lost just because they are behind on schedule?"

Prévost placed his inkwell parallel to his blotting paper on his desk before adding, "Well, considering they could not take enough provisions for a whole winter, especially with a few of those beasts on board..." A keen light glimmering in his eyes, he continued, "and in any way, should not your aim be to reach China, and not to become another doomed search party?"

Laurence was about to damn his honor and etiquette and smash his fist in that blobby ball of fat of a man's face, when Emily Roland barged in.

"Captain!” she started, then caught herself. “I mean, Captains, Sirs, em... you just got to see this!" And with that she rushed out of the room.

 

On the deck of the _Potentate_ was Iskierka --all teeth and claw and literally steaming-- curled around an egg.

 

"You will not take my egg!" she was shrieking in Temeraire’s direction.

"I was not going to take your egg!” protested Temeraire, indignant. “And it's not only YOUR egg."

"Run for your lives; she will throw us all into the fiery pits of Hell !" was shouting an alarmed O'Dea in the midst of the panicking sailors.

"What on earth is happening?" yelled Laurence, covering the noise with his powerful voice.

"Oh, Laurence, will you explain to her that I have rights ?" said Temeraire, turning to face him. "Technically, that egg is mine too."

 

At which point Laurance's jaw dropped.

 

 

***

 

_My dear Laurence,_

_temperatures have dropped overnight. The winds blow from the North; despite the heated deck, Arkady started to complain he is cold. How do you tie nots when the ropes become as hard as rocks ? How do you maneuver a ship when your hands are numb from the cold ? How do you drink when water freezes in your cup before you drink it ? One of the riggings of the great mast broke and the Captain stayed up all night with his crew to repair it, he fell ill shortly after. He is still bedridden with a fever and bad cough. The crew surgeon instructed for him to get double ration of lemon juice to combat scurvy as well as to prevent the infection from going further in his lungs, but a few bottles of lemon juice burst open during the night, making rations even smaller. Second in command Franklin[7] has assumed the leadership of the expedition. He named the strait we are following the Barrow Strait. As if we still had to honor those fools of the Royal Society, smoking pipe and drinking brandy in their respectable homes in London! The compass has gone astray, despite going due West, it points North. Truly, this land is not meant for men. _

_I miss you dearly,_

_Tenzig._

 

 

***

 

Both Iskierka and Temeraire were finally placated, and someone had insisted O'Dea and the rest of the sailors visited the "entertainment" Halifax had to offer. Therefore, only the officers, the captains, their dragons and their crew remained on deck of the _Potentate_.

 

"Temeraire, can you tell me what happened ?" asked Laurence. Temeraire looked down a moment before replying "Iskierka laid an egg, and because I was excited, I might have reached for it."

"Precisely, you tried to steal MY egg!" interrupted Iskierka.

"Your egg? As if I had nothing to do with that!" Temeraire replied indignantly.

"Indeed, you had very little to do with it!" she replied, not even registering Temeraire's wounded pride as she went on. "And who do you think was sick EVERY morning those past few weeks ? That must have been the cause of it. Lilly told me Harcourt was sick all the time before she laid her egg!" she concluded triumphantly.

Dejected, Temeraire still added "Well... a part of it is still mine."

 

And that was the conclusion of the dispute. The humans on board stayed silent, appalled by the exchange, before Granby elbowed Laurence: "Am I the only one who feels like I am about to become a grandfather ?" After a few seconds of hilarity, Blaise added grimly: "Laurence, in these circumstances, I cannot risk such an expedition. I am sorry."

 

Even though Blaise had indeed said he would reassess the situation once in Halifax, hearing him close the issue was a shock.

"I do not think you are aware of all of the circumstances though, Captain, “ a new voice declared. All heads turned to the man who had talked. "David Thompson [8], explorer, at your service." he added with a broad smile and a small courtbow.

Behind him, Emily Roland turned a bright shade of red. "I'm sorry, he insisted on coming aboard to talk to the captain." she said.

"What would those circumstances be, sir ?" Blaise asked the newcomer, politely. Thompson passed a large calloused hand through his impressive beard and then launched into a very eloquent speech, making large gestures to illustrate his words, as if he had rehearsed it.

"You see, my dear friends, in the search of the Northwest passage, the real enemy is time. All agree such a passage must exist, the question is, can we find it before it is closed by the ice ? The Hudson bay Company thought they had the answer. By having dragons on board that can fly over the sea, they saved several days, maybe weeks of tentative search for the right strait, the right sound, that would lead them westward. But apparently, that was not enough. " Laurence flinched at the comment. "The question is,” Thompson concluded, “what would happen if instead of running away from the ice, we had a way to break it ? Hmm ?"

Thompson let his words sink in before turning towards the dragons and adding "You might not know who I am, but I know who you are! A mighty firebreather and a creature of legend, a Celestial, bearer of the divine wind." At that point, he paused, a finger still raised at the two dragons, who were looking more confused than enlightened by his discourse.

"Even if it was true that Temeraire could use his divine wind to make way for the _Potentate_ ," said Blaise after a moment, "we would still have no way of finding the lost expedition, nor would I want to endanger a whole squadron, with what seems to be a precious specimen still in the egg."

Smiling ear to ear, Thompson replied: "You are a very wise captain, Mr. Blaise, yet I am sure you cannot refute the logic that if we follow the same route the lost expedition took, along those narrow straits, it would be impossible to miss them, true ? Also, I happen to know that a brand new transport ship coming from the Davie Shipyard in Levis. [9] Along with its crew, it should arrive in Halifax in a few days. I am certain they would be delighted to transport whatever dragon you want back to the safety of their covert in England."

 

With each point, he had taken a step, almost dancing, towards the middle of the group, and now, having won every argument, he made another ceremonious bow and concluded: "Perfect ! We shall depart tomorrow, I will give instructions for this ship to be equipped with whatever we will need to face the winter up North. Yes, my employer will be pleased!"

Turning his back on them, he climbed down the ladder leading to the small dock connected to the harbour, leaving the ship and its befuddled company. Before stepping off, he shouted, "Yes, the Northwest company will be delighted!"

 

 

***

 

Governor Prévost, whose French name was due to his Swiss mother, was a prudent and practical man. Trade was the lifeline of England, so was the saying, and he understood that very well. As soon as he had been appointed to Halifax, he had labored to sign long-lasting peace treaties with the local tribes, as well as to establish good relations with the French-speaking communities along the St-Laurence river, his fluency in French coming handy in the negotiations. All of this had resulted in steady routes for goods in Canada, the increasing importance of the port, and thus that of the town of Halifax. Wars were won by money, a notion he inherited from his grandfather, a rich banker, and he was, in his own way, contributing quite grandly, and proudly, to England's well-being. At least, that was his perception of things.

 

Providing everything overnight for such an expedition had been a challenge. Men and dragons alike had been working all night to prepare the ship for its long journey. Nearby Mi'kmaq warriors, perched on their Migizyi[10] dragons --large middleweights covered in dark-brown feathers for their body and wings, while their heads were covered in feathers as white as snow-- oversaw the procedure. The Englishmen working with the natives on the docks were uneasy turning their backs to the dragons and their leather-clad pilots; stories were told of wars not so long ago, where those yellow-eyed dragons had shrieked, their white head crimson with blood, over battlefields littered with enemy corpses.

 

Reluctantly, Iskierka and the rest of the squadron had accepted to take the next transport back to England, while Temeraire and Kulingile would embark towards China. Iskierka had indeed protested, but not for long. When the welfare of her egg had been mentioned, she had expressed the wish to bring it to proper training grounds, where the dragonling could chose a worthy captain. After all, the only capable men here were already taken. Hammond had obviously insisted that, despite the potential dangers of the expedition, he accompanied them to China, and wherever Hammond went, so went Shukri. Demane, not technically being a member of the corps, was given the choice. His choice was adventure.

 

By mid morning, everything was in order and Captain Blaise was ready to give his orders. Last goodbyes were made amongst dragon crews, many averted their eyes at those of Emily Roland and Demane, whilst O'Dea was struggling to bring everything he was carrying on board of the _Potentate_ ; a small cask of unidentified liquid, a big pile of books, a large furcoat and a mandoline.

Feeling observed, he said, “If we are to stay trapped in a desert of ice, I will wait for death with a hearty song and a drink!”

 

 

***

 

Thompsons' plan had been quite simple. Judging from the different maps he possessed --which surely the captain of the _Invigilator_ had also received-- the shortest route would be to pass between the coasts of Labrador and Greenland until they reached the Baffin bay, then try to reach a passage West, to the North of the Canadian Northern island maze. Using the dragons as reconnaissance, they should be able to find their way to China, and at the same time, find the lost expedition. Of course, all of this would only be possible if Thompson's theory was correct and Temeraire's divine wind was able to break through polar ice.

 

“Laurence, oh look !” Temeraire said. Laurence, Thompson and and Blaise, alerted by Temeraire's excited voice came to the deck. On the visible coastline of Greenland, creatures of several tons were frolicking in the water. Their resemblance to bunyips was surprising despite their very different coloring; their backs were jet black, while their bellies were white, some had spots of yellow and red on their heads, whilst others had a sort of crest. All were engaged it a merry activity of splashing water, eating fish, diving and swimming surprisingly well under water. Temeraire and Kulingile were both calling to them, and being ignored, while laughing at their antics.

“Look, they are just like the bears Mother keeps in her garden in China!” said Temeraire.

How a wingless dragon of several tons could look like a bear was a mystery to Laurence, but rather than arguing, he was glad for this moment of lightheartedness, for he knew the first challenge of their journey was coming very soon.

 

The following days, they had to readjust several times the course of the _Potentate_ , as capricious icebergs floated past them. The smaller ones could always be dragged out of their way by either Temeraire or Kulingile, but some were the size of mountains. A large sound was reported by Demande and Kulingile, several knots Northwest of their position. The ice obstructing it seemed thinner and the possibility of it having been opened only days ago was good. Laurence instructed Temeraire to stay as far away as possible and his back safely oriented towards the ship when he would launch the divine wind. Temeraire stretched his ribs, filled his lungs and roared repeatedly, four, five, six times. The idea of Temeraire not being able to break that ice, while Tharkay was potentially just a few knots away was heartbreaking, and it was with great anguish that Laurence saw the first few roars have no effect. Then suddenly, a deafening cracking sound echoed through the frozen landscape, as the path of ice burst open, a geyser of compressed water erupting into the air.

 

 

***

 

_My dear Laurence,_

_I keep writing despite knowing this journal might never reach you. We have made our way through most of the Northern Islands and even further. We mapped with great success our passage, and judging by our approximated longitude, we probably made it to 120'W before we had to turn back towards Halifax. If the Northwest passage exists, it is closed by now; our way was often obstructed by ice, and we had to navigate with great caution. Our advance was slow, but we still had hope of finding more open waters before winter... but no more. We have been trapped for several weeks now, and no amount of work done to free the ship has produced any results. Our food reserves are growing thin, and the men are more and more weary of the dragons. Men and dragons are alike, if pushed to the limit, they will do whatever they have to do to survive. The days are growing short, and there is an air of unrest aboard. Captain David Buchan died yesterday of pneumonia, leaving his second John Franklin in charge. The fifty-seven men on board are uneasy and reluctant to follow the difficult orders of a man so young. Franklin had to menace to "blow out their brains" if someone stole supplies. Several fights have erupted bellow-deck. I will attempt to leave the ship and find help southward. I have thought about you very often; wondered what you would do in my position. I have very little hope of finding help, but at least, leaving with the dragons will give the crew a chance. I am scared, Laurence._

_Farewell, my friend,_

_Tenzig_

___ _

With it's 422 tons, coppered bottom, three masts, and modified deck to accommodate dragons, the _Invigilator_ had been an imposing, if inelegant ship in Halifax Harbour. Encased by ice, in a desert of frozen sea, it now looked like a small wooden coffin rather than the symbol of British naval dominance. The living quarters had been rearranged around the small boiler room that provided a constant heating to the deck. The fifty-seven sailors were cramped inside, trying to stay warm. Food and drink supplies had to be stored in the same room, unless it froze, and keeping the men rationed with their supplies so close to them proved to be a challenge even to the most disciplined. On the heated deck, the great sails had been taken down and wrapped around the dragons, shielding them from the cold winds and snow. Soon, coal would run out, and they would need to start burning wood. Footsteps drew Tharkay's attention away from his letter. He quickly shoved his freezing hands --along with the paper-- under the woolen cover wrapped around his body.

"Have you decided ?" asked Franklin, coming to stand next to him.

Tharkay answered sobberly "I'll leave tomorrow morning." Franklin's eyes showed regret and concern, as well as resignation. He averted Thrakay's unreadable gaze and left the room. No more words had to be exchanged. The next morning, Arkady was rigged, Gherni and Lester stretching their wings besides him, ready for the long flight ahead of them. No farewells were exchanged as the three great beasts took flight.

___ _

***

___ _

The _Potentate_ 's way through the narrow passage was slow but steady. With Temeraire's divine wind, they were able to clear themselves a path several times, while Kulingile would make passes, pushing or snatching large pieces of ice dangerously floating towards the ship. Both dragons were tired, but morale was good. Their technique seemed to be working magnificently, and Thompson radiated an aura of satisfaction that was very difficult to ignore. The sun was rising later and later each day, and it was in that pale dawn that they finally saw the _Investigator_ , no bigger than a small dot between the ice and the milky sky.

 

Laurence’s knuckles were turning white inside the fur mitts, clutching the straps on Temeraire's back. Flying at top speed towards the frozen ship he was muttering “Tenzig, I am coming”.

 

As they flew closer to the ship, they realized that the deck was empty, not only of crew, but of dragons too. Temeraire came to a halt, flapping his wings to maintain his altitude, while Laurence slid down a rope and landed heavily on the deck of the _Investigator_. Ice and snow was covering most of it. It was as if it had climbed from the sea, like claws, tilting the ship slightly to the side. The silence was eerie, the only noise the regular flapping of Temreraire's wings over him. A loud crack coming from the wood of the ship echoed in the vast nothingness, and made Laurence turn around. He saw ropes tied around the great mast. As he walked around it, he saw a man was tied to it, standing, his eyes closed, his mouth open, his skin blue, rigid. A noise behind him startled Laurence. A door had opened, men wrapped in blankets on top of their coats were slowly coming out on the deck; they looked pale and weak.

 

A young man stepped forward, “I am John Franklin, captain of the Investigator”.

 

 

***

 

Transporting the crew of the _Investigator_ to the _Potentate_ had been fast. The men were eager to leave their trapped ship and were too weak to cause any sort of commotion. Laurence, Blaise and Franklin were sitting in the captain's cabin aboard the _Potentate_. After eating --or rather shoving food down his throat at top speed-- Franklin talked about their journey, how they made their way, mapping the coasts faster than anyone could have anticipated. How they had pushed farther West than anyone before them. How, finally, they had turned around, only to be surprised by the ice.

 

“The men were afraid. The dragons were eating most of the provisions. You understand, after Captain Buchan died,” he hesitated. “I had to make a choice... you can reason with men, but you cannot reason with dragons; I have seen what these beasts can do.” Franklin's hollowed eyes were seeing something the two other men could not.

“I saw men die, impaled by their talons. I remember the smell of people dissolving in dragon's spit, the screams of burning men when that firebreather came down on us. I remember the roar of that Flecha-del-Fuego, when it came raining fire on us.”

“You were at Trafalgar ?”[11] asked Laurence, surprised.

The question seemed to pull Franklin out of his memories. “Yes, I was,” he added soberly, “I was serving on the Bellerophon.” His lips curved into a small smile. “She was a beauty you know; a 74 gun third-class ship of the line, a flawless balance between speed, power, manoeuvrability; she was just perfect.” He sighed, looking exhausted, then continued: “We were in the southern column. Captain Cooke was leading us towards the French and Spanish line. We broke their formation, sinking their ships. It was almost too easy. That's when the firebreather appeared.” Franklin took a large gulp of his mug of hot tea. “It was as if the sea itself was made out of fire. We manoeuvred outside the column for a moment. That's when the Aigle came unto us. We were boarded. We all fought. I killed so many men that day, I cannot even remember. There are some days when I can still feel the blood on my hands, warm and sticky. In the end, it was us that took their ship, and by that time, one of our dragons had pushed back the Spanish firebreather. It was a complete victory, but captain John Cooke was dead.” John Franklin was probably somewhere in his mid-twenties, but as Laurence looked at him with sympathy, he thought he looked old.

 

There was a moment of silence until Blaise had to ask: “Captain Laurence told me a man's body was tied up to your great mast.”

It was not a question, it was a fact, a fact that needed an answer. “You must understand, even with the dragons gone to look for help, the men were,” Franklin paused. “Some of the men were more unstable than others.” Again, taking another gulp of tea, “That man stole food. We were strictly rationed; I was stating to fear I would have to eat my boots to stay alive. He got caught, a brawl started, a few men of the crew wanted to actually eat the man!”

“You had to punish him to keep the crew disciplined”, interrupted Blaise, “so you tied him to the mast and let the cold kill him. We understand.” It must have been a hard choice to make, but between the possibility of a mutiny, slaughter, madness, and one clean death, both Laurence and Blaise had to admit to themsleves they would have done the same.

Laurence finally asked, “Do you know where Tharkay is?”

“He left with the dragons. If he is alive, he is somewhere South looking for help from the natives. I do not know.”

 

That answer fell on Laurence like led. He was tired, tired and weary. Blaise looked Laurence in the eyes before talking very slowly, “Laurence, you know we cannot wait for him for ever. I do not wish to risk the arctic winter. If he is not back in three days, we leave.”

 

 

***

 

All the men from the two crews were massed in the mess. Most of the other rooms or cabins had been sealed in order to preserve heat. The men from the Invigilator had drank, eaten and now were warm. Even with the cold temperatures outside, the boiler rooms were not far, and one could be comfortable with only a light coat. Despite the complete darkness outside, it was still too early for curfew. A few oil-lamps were projecting shadows on the walls, the tables had been pushed to the sides, so the men could hang as many hammocks as needed. Some men were sitting on the ground, playing cards, officers turning a blind-eye to gambling, under the circumstances, others were engaged in conversations of past glory or future projects. All were behaving in some sort of forced cheerfulness. O'Dea was plucking the strings of his Mandolin, alternating D, A, G and B minor chords, mumbling to himself[12].

 

“Baggage, damage, cabbage, ravage... Damn this,” he said, “what, in the names of the seven pits of Hell, rimes with passage?” he asked to no one in particular, until someone answered, “Cleavage!”

“Oh, shut your gob, you bloody idiot!” he shouted, throwing his empty cup at the laughing man, who in turn threw him his own not so empty cup. Tension magically dissipated and the whole mess started to laugh at the two wrestling men on the ground.

 

Only Laurence was not laughing, seeing the hours go by without news of Tharkay.

 

 

***

 

Laurence had fallen asleep, his sleep plagued with his own memories of battle, mixed with Franklin's stories, when a shout woke him up. “DRAGON!” He rushed on the deck, scanning the horizon. Temeraire had already spotted the incoming dot in the sky. It was flying low, followed by two smaller dots and what looked like a flock of birds.

 

“Temeraire, is it them amongst those birds?” asked anxiously Laurence.

“It's them, Laurence,” Temeraire replied, “but those are not birds.”

Laurence could not wait. “Temeraire, pick me up!”

 

Temeraire's talons quickly closed on him and he was lifted off the ground. The following minutes were the longest of Laurence's life. Arkady and Temeraire came to a halt and Laurence rushed towards Tharkay. The two men fell into each other's arms.

 

“Tenzig, I...” stammered Laurence, but before he could continue, he felt Tharkay's legs give way under his own weight. Tharkay's eyes were closing, he was asleep.

 

 

***

 

The flock of birds had been three huge sleighs pulled by nine dragons each, each dragon the size of a poney. Several Indians, wearing fur coats were now making camp besides the _Potentate_. One large man had gestured he wanted to come aboard. Akaitcho[13] \--that was the man's name-- spoke some English, Thompson a few Inuit and Algonquin languages, and Temeraire put to use his uncanny talent to understand and remember new words. Together, they were able to negotiate the exchange of some food and geographical information against a few knives, mirrors and a note of credit at a fort owned by the Northwest Company.

 

Inside Blaise's cabin, Tharkay had been put to bed. Laurence was trying to make him drink some water. Tharkay was a smaller man than Laurence, but he seemed so much thinner, almost fragile, compared to the last time Laurence had seen him. His face was burned by the cold wind. Tharkay didn't even open his eyes when he grabbed his hand and said, “I am glad you came for me, my friend.” and he was back asleep.

 

When Laurence came out of the cabin, night had already fallen. Laurence walked on the deck. Temeraire, Kulingile, Shukri, Arkady, Gherni and Lester were tangled up together underneath their makeshift tent. The _Investigator_ was already damaged by the ice, and it was clear that she would not handle well the divine wind, if they were to try to free her thus from her predicament. Therefore, when the dragons we done transporting the men, they had been given permission to take what they wanted of the marooned ship. Temeraire had used the masts and sails to make a tent of some sort above the heated deck of the Potentate. The heated air stayed trapped inside, and they were protected against wind and weather. Laurence strode over the ropes Shukri had been knotting to pass time the past few weeks. Temeraire sensed Laurence nearby and said, still asleep, "We must put veils on my pavilion in Australia; my mother will come and have tea with us."

Laurence waited a moment. He could only hear the deep breaths of Temeraire joining the chorus of snoring from the other dragons. The sky was dark, clouds were blocking the stars. A gush of wind suddenly ruffled his hair. He put on the hood of his fur coat and walked across the deck, slamming the door shut behind him. He descended into the mess.

 

 

***

 

Laurence was woken up by a shiver. He had fallen asleep on the ground, leaning against a wall, wrapped in a heavy blanket. He could hear the wind howl outside. Even in the heated room the temperature was dropping. The men around him were asleep bundled together, preserving their warmth. The door suddenly opened, snow blowing in the mess, when three men entered. Two made a straight line towards their hammocks, while the third one came siting besides Laurence.

 

"I asked them where you were." said Tharkay, "and yes, I have eaten and I feel much better." Taken aback, Laurence was about to protest when he saw in the dim lighting the corner of Tharkay's lips turn into a cocky smile.

"I'm glad I found you too." said Laurence, reciprocating the smile, his a bit broader than he had intended.

"I know." said Tharkay as he made his way into the blanket. Both men had their backs on the wall, leaning against another, their legs up, the blanket over their heads and up to their noses. Tharkay's head was against Laurence's shoulder.

"Tenzig... Franklin told me what you did; leaving with the dragons. It was a noble thing to do," Laurence paused, "I don't think I could have left without you. Would you not have come back in time, I think I would have left the Potentate behind, and went looking for you. Damn this war, damn China... I would have left looking for you, Tenzig." He swallowed, saying his name at last felt so surreal to him, he stumbled, "Tenzig, I do not know how to explain this... I am at a loss of words... I..." He turned his head only to see Tharkay's closed eyes.

His expression was peaceful, he looked satisfied. Laurence sighed and looked in front of him, wondering what exactly he had been about to say to his sleeping friend, when he felt a hand touch the inside his knee. He felt a small jolt, unfamiliar muscles contracting, then turned his head, and as he did, Tharkay's lips met his. A muffled sound of surprise escaped his throat. He stayed immobile for a moment, then let the kiss deepen. Tharkay still had his eyes closed, and again that smug look Laurence liked so much. Tharkay's hand descended towards his crotch, resting there, then slowly caressing the growing bulge in Laurence’s trousers. Laurence freed himself from the kiss to exhale and lifted his head towards the ceiling. His breathing was deepening and Laurence was making laborious efforts to remain silent. He shifted towards Tharkay to reciprocate the gesture, only to have his hand grabbed by Tharkay’s.

“You’re the one who came to rescue me, remember ?” he whispered, “this is your reward.” His low laugh into Laurence’s ear aroused him out of his mind, and it was his turn to kiss him. He pressed his mouth hard against Tharkay’s, until their lips parted open and their tongues melted against each other. Tharkay quickly undid the trouser’s buttons and furthered his caresses. _Yes_ , thought Laurence. He was going to need to find a way to wash that blanket tomorrow, he mused, dazed, and then, he could no longer think at all.

 

 

***

 

When Laurence woke up, he was alone in the mess. Tharkay was gone, and so was the incriminating blanket. He walked on deck and was surprised to find everyone so agitated; men and dragon were massed on the same side of the ship and were enthusiastically commenting on some action taking place on the ice. A small amount of snow had fallen during the night and the side of the Potentate had provided a shield from the wind, allowing the creation of a fluffy snowbank. The small Indian dragons were gathered and cheering two of their comrades who were engaged into what could only be described as some sort of wrestling in the snow[14].

The Indian dragons had white plumage so thick it could easily be mistaken for fur from afar. It went all the way down to their feet, a well-adapted feature for a creature of the arctic. Because of their smaller size, one would have expected a build similar to that of a Winchester courier, a lightweight made for speed. Rather, they seemed powerful and muscular. The two wrestling dragons --their feathers puffed in an impressive manner-- had each others head under their wings and were trying to topple their opponent. Excited barks and shouts were coming from their comrades, as well as an occasional puff of smoke. Laurence's eyes widened at that sight, "Are they", he started.

"Yes, those are firebreathers." completed Tharkay, coming to stand next to him. “In this arid climate, those dragons are most essential to the local Indians. They can hunt with them, thus securing food, they can breath fire and they are a formidable mean of transportation.”

 

"Laurence,” said Temeraire as he noticed his captain, “Tharkay told me you were still asleep!" Laurence looked away, embarassed on many levels. "You missed their qamutik[15] race !" Temeraire continued, obvious to Laurence’s discomfort in his excitement.

"Do you think we could build one when we get to china ? I heard they have snow during the winter in some regions. I am certain Mother would be delighted to see this. We could even use silk instead of ropes! Theirs are quite efficient, but the colors are a bit dull," he pondered.

Before Laurence could yet again promise to show something to his mother, one of the dragons let out a high pitched yelp, lost his footing in the snow and was flipped upside down by his opponent. Cheers and laughter erupted, only to be brought back to order by Blaise's command to get the ship ready. Everyone was on board and the day was clear, it was time to go. In a matter of minutes, the two crews had prepared the _Potentate_ , the sails were ready --but down in case of recoil from the divine wind-- and all men were at their posts.

 

Temeraire took off, and flew towards the empty Invigilator. Midway between the two ships, he stopped, drew his breath, and the low rumbling of the divine wind grew until it was one long cavernous roar. Temeraire followed it with several smaller roars, and waited. Waited. And nothing happened. No burst, no geyser, no ice shattering. He had just blown all the snow on top of stunningly blue ice. After a few tries, Temeraire had to turn back to the _Potentate_.

 

“Laurence, I do not understand ! It is not working.” he complained. Their dire situation slowly dawned on the crew.

“This is it. We shall never again see the shores of England!” O’Dea lyrically exclaimed as he picked up his mandolin and started to pluck the chords of his almost finished ballad.

Thompson rested a hand on his shoulder and said, “I think it is a bit early for the singing eulogy.” He then addressed the whole crew: “Gentlemen, dragons, I might have an idea... but it will require a lot of work and we do not have much time before dark. Temeraire, would you be so kind as to go fetch back Mister Akaitcho, his men and his dragons, who left just moments ago ?”

 

 

***

 

When Temeraire came back, three sleighs full of men and a flock of dragons in tow, the crew of the _Potentate_ was busy with quite an intriguing labour. Men were riping the sails of the _Investigator_ and plaiting the threads into cords, who were then expertly braided by Shukri. Kulingile and the ferals were going back and forth between the two ships, dismantling the _Investigator_ a little more with each trip.

 

“What is happening ?” asked Temeraire.

“We are making a sleigh!” chirped Kulingile, “Thompson has a plan to take the ship with us as we fly away from here.”

“A sleigh! How unfair! I thought about it first!” complained Temeraire as he joined in to strip wood from the deck of the _Investigator_.

 

Thompson was negotiating tightly with Akaitcho, the later having the upper hand. Thompson finally threw his hands in the air, making sure his interlocutor understood he was giving in to his demands. When he turned his back on him, he let a wide grin stretch his face. The larger dragons had already stripped the _Investigator_ down to its copper bottom. They carried it closer to the _Potentate_ and instructions were given to the fire breathers. The twenty-seven smaller dragons started jumping on the huge metal plate merrily, while puffing smoke and tiny jets of flame. In no time, the metal was soft enough Kulingile was able to cut through it and fold it into two long blades with his sharp talons. On deck, Thompson was beaming with pride. Hammond approached him. He had seldom left the mess during this whole expedition, whether it was to escape the cold or Shukri’s intense affection, and asked him, “What exactly is your aim in all this ?”

“Apart from staying alive, you mean ?” Thompson smiled, looking at the industrious activity bellow.

“I still have my sources inside the Hudson Bay Company, and I know from my own employers that a merger between the two companies is on a few people’s mind. Some of the shareholders are unfortunately quite opposed to the idea of a truce between the rival companies, even more to a potential merger. But if a joint venture like this would succeed, they would be forced to merge to exploit such an opportunity.”

“Which would generate massive profits for shareholders such as yourself, I presume ?” inquired Hammond.

“If everything goes well, I should be able to buy my own estate in the countryside, a few horses, pretty things, maybe a small castle...”, replied Thompson.

 

As a diplomat and lawyer, Hammond wondered at the legal aspect of such a move, but then, if it made them get out of the arctic alive, why object ?

 

The structure was complete in a few hours. An immense sleigh made out of wood and copper stood besides the Potentate. Shukri was contemplating her ropes with great pride and soon enough all six dragons were harnessed and tied to the ship, the makeshift sleigh in between. As they pulled, a few men on deck were praying. Franklin turned towards Blaise and said, “I swear, if we survive this, I’ll marry Eleanor and move to some place warm, like Tasmania.”

O’Dea even raised his fist towards the sky and proclaimed, “If we reach the sea, I swear I will never drink again!”, which spurred many dubious glances from the men.

 

After a moment of fruitless efforts, cracking sounds were heard around them. A small tremor shook the ship and Blaise shouted, “Grab on to something!”. The ship suddenly broke free from the ice and jumped forward, landing heavily on the sleigh, sliding several yards before coming to a halt. After inspection, the hull seemed to have resisted the impact and to rest balanced on the sleigh. The men tied ropes to the sleigh as well, and all was ready to attempt their experiment. The dragons once again took flight, dragging the ship behind them[16]. Soon, the Potentatewas sliding at an impressive pace westwards. In a few days they would have reached the safety of the open waters of the Bering sea, then those of the Pacific ocean.

 

 

***

 

Laurence was standing on the stem of the ship, looking at the sunset, his hands tight on the railing to keep his balance in the blowing wind. Tharkay’s hand rested on his. Their eyes met and they smiled at each other, before looking ahead.

“I am glad I found you.” Laurence repeated. “Tenzig, you know that I’ll never let you be away from me now, do you ?”

“Is that a promise ?” Tharkay asked with a crooked smile.

“Oh, it is,” replied Laurence.

 

Back on the deck, O’Dea was fuming, “Who stole my cask?” he yelled, pointing vehemently at the laughing crew. “Where is the shitehound that stole my cask?” Apparently, someone had made sure he intended to keep his word.

Laurence and Tharkay looked at each other; and so would they.

 

 

*** The End ***

 

 

[1] The _Investigator_ was purchased in 1848 and sent after Franklin's disappearance in the Arctic. She herself had to be abandoned in1853 because she was trapped in ice. The heating system, the reinforced structure, the copper bottom, etc. that made her so innovative at the time would have been invented earlier (out of necessity to carry dragons!) in Novik's universe, so technically, she could have been at sea as early at 1810-ish. The crew consisted of 57 men.

[2] The Northwest Company (1779-1821) was a rival of The Hudson Bay Company. Often both companies resorted to violence to compete for goods (mainly furs) in the lawless wild territories of North America. A forced merger between the two was decreed in 1821. Both companies were in financial difficulty during the Napoleonic wars, as wood for naval constructions became Canada's first export instead of fur. In Novik's universe, I suspect the prolonged Napoleonic wars would have precipitated the two companies’ merger.

[3] Sir Joseph Banks was an explorer and naturalist, founder and president of the Royal Society. His biographers often put much emphasis on his expeditions and mapping of the South Pacific and forget to mention that he was one of the loudest voices asking for the discovery of the NorthWest passage (despite scientific evidence disproving the practicality of such a passage, or even its mere existence). He promised prizes of several thousand pounds to whoever would link the two oceans through the North. This venture led to the death of hundreds of sailors over the course of more than half a century. During his last years, he suffered from gout and was indeed in a wheelchair.

[4] The tin can was patented in 1810 by British merchant Peter Durand. Durand did not pursue food canning himself, but, in 1812, sold his patent to two Englishmen, Bryan Donkin and John Hall, who set up a commercial canning factory, and by 1813, were producing their first canned goods for the British Army. Let's say it happened a few years earlier in Novik's universe.

[5] Captain David Buchan was a Scottish explorer, he led the first arctic expedition of John Franklin aboard the Dorothea (while Franklin was commanding the Trent). Since the goal of the expedition was only to map the coast, and not to find the Northwest passage, both ships turned around and made it back safely before winter. He disappeared at sea near India in 1838.

[6] George Prévost (1767-1816) was Governer of Nova Scotia from 1805-1815. He played an important role in the Canada/US 1812 war, which never happened in Novik's universe... so, since he wouldn't get to see any military action, I thought he'd get more fat!

[7] John Franklin (1784-1847) is one of the most illustrious figures of arctic exploration. His expeditions always encountered tremendous problems, including, but not limited to: scurvy, famine, frostbite, amputation, murder, madness and cannibalism. He was lost (and never found) with his two ships in the arctic in 1847. He truly ate his boots in one of his expeditions. He apparently did threaten to "blow out the brains" of his crew. .

[8] David Thompson was another explorer, born in 1770, who worked for The Hudson Bay Company before changing teams and joining the Northwest Company. Around the time this story takes place, he should have been somewhere in the Rockies. A peculiar individual, he once reported having seen the genuine tracks of the fabled Sasquatch.

[9] The Davie shipyard was founded in 1825 by Allison Davie (1796-1836), an English ship captain. However the construction record only dates to 1897. Davie's father in-law, George Taylor, had begun a shipbuilding business in 1811 and Davie apparently purchased those assets as well. So, for fun, let's say George Taylor was making ships with his best apprentice (who would later marry his daughter) a little earlier. Why not?

[10] It means « eagle » in Algonquin. The Mi'kmaqs are part of the Algonquins tribes; though the details about this particular regional dialect remain unclear .

[11] Yes, Franklin served at the Battle of Trafalgar aboard the Bellerophon, middle of the southern column, indeed boarded by a French ship, etc.

[12] They're the right chords to a well known (especially to due South fans!) song. You'll get more at the end of the fic. Extra points if you guessed right already.

[13] Akaitcho (1786-1838) was the leader of the Yellowknife tribe (Copper Indians). He was recruited by Franklin for his 1819-22 expeditions. His name means "Big-Foot" or "Big-Feet"; meaning: "like a wolf with big paws, he can travel long distances over snow". He ruled over his tribe with an iron fist and led them through several wars against neighboring tribes, though it is said that is his later life, he was the main architect of a historical peace treaty between the Chipewyan and the Dogrib. Normally, he would not have ventured this far North, though it was technically part of his territory, but with the addition of dragons making transport so much faster, it is possible that he did.

[14] Inspired by a traditional Inuit game, the Muskox Push.

[15] Inuit sleigh.

[16] This is plausible. The current record for a horse sleigh pulled by two heavyweight horses is 12 tons (ratio animal weight vs pulled weight about 1x6). If we consider the _Potentate_ to be twice as big as the 244 tons _Investigator_ , we can estimate her weight around 500 tons, plus give or take 30 tons for crew and supplies, amounting to a total of 530 tons. If we add Kulingile, Temeraire, Arkady, Shukri, Lester and Gherni’s approximated weight (respectively 50-30-10-5-3-2 tons) we have a total of 100 tons. Pulling about five times their weight would hardly be a challenge. Following the same logic, Gherni, Lester and Arkady alone (15 tons) would not have been able to pull the _Investigator_.


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very special thanks to my Beta and co-author xen. I hope you guys enjoy the Due South reference ! No singers or other musicians were harmed during this recording.

With the surviving crew of the _Investigator_ on board, as well as the regular crew of the Potentate, their transport was over-manned. Not that they were cramped, per se, but rather the work-shifts were separated by long hours of idleness.

They had dropped Thompson at a Northwest Company trading post on the West Coast of America, and now were sailing west on the Pacific ocean, a clear sky over them and a warm breeze in their sails.

To say the men were bored was an understatement. In that context, O'Dea had found little difficulty in recruiting sailors and dragons alike to partake in his latest musical creation. 

Music being a language in itself, Temeraire had picked it up at an amazing speed. After only a few days worth of lessons, he could already humm all the different lines and was even suggesting changes to O'Dea.

“The tenors should go down here,” he pointed. “It would prevent that brutal fifth from sticking out. What do you think Laurence?” 

His captain could only nod, completely lost in the tiny dots noted on the piece of paper.

Tharkay laughed regularly at Laurence's disarray over Temeraire's musical musings. He himself had carved a flute in a scrap piece of wood and had started improvising above O'Dea's song. Much to the composer’s surprise, his melodies reminded him of some _sean-nós_ he heard as a child. 

On a less fortunate note, it was discovered that most of the other dragons on board were tone deaf. O'Dea had to confine them to a simple pedal, a bass line of sort, not to strain their limited abilities and extended egos. Demane had had to spend many hours consoling Kulingile, who was disappointed his lesser role, until he had realized he could hum more than one note at the time and thus sing both pedal parts simultaneously.

***

The performance came as the distant lights of the Guandong shores appeared in their spyglass.

Gong Su had hung several lanterns to lit a makeshift stage and all men had gathered on deck, eager to watch the show. 

Finally, the man of the hour appeared on the upper deck. O’Dea walked surefooted – the endeavour having miraculously taken his mind away from drinking - until he faced his band of now-quite-passionate volunteers.

He plucked a few chords on his mandolin, giving each section their note. Satisfied, he nodded, then cued the dragons in.

[Audio](https://www.box.com/s/fyxg52qf6008n7rkx8dt)

[Score](https://www.box.com/s/e8ksf38vutz0imvozuwf)

***

Afterwards, Laurence made his way through the cheering crowd and over-excited dragons.

“I didn't know you played so well,” he said with admiration, coming up behind Tharkay as he was putting away his piper. 

“I have many hidden talents, my dear.” replied Tharkay, leading him with a hand on his back towards their cabin. “Many...”

THE END


End file.
